


Learn to Love Again

by Victorious56



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Qrow is struggling, and so is Clover, james is a good friend, relationship difficulties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28266480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: As Qrow refuses to acknowledge he is struggling with the consequences of quitting drinking, his relationship with Clover begins to founder. When things are at their bleakest, James does what he can to help.
Relationships: Clover Ebi & James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen & James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Learn to Love Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AndyAstral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyAstral/gifts).



> This is for Andy. Merry Xmas!
> 
> The title comes from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1CpWYU3DvA) song, by P!nk.

Clover let out a gentle moan, his voice muffled by the pillow. Qrow's hands—smaller than his own, but still effective at their task—smoothed up his back either side of the spine. Slender fingers worked at his shoulders, Clover's groans increasing as Qrow smirked a little.

"Whose room is next door? They'll be getting the wrong idea of what we're doing here if you carry on like this."

"Don't care. It's too good." Clover's mumbled words caused Qrow's smile to widen further, as he ran his hands back down, ending the massage with a pinch of Clover's butt.

"Ow! That wasn't fair!" Clover rolled onto his back, pulling Qrow down to his chest. "You're so gonna regret that, you know. My turn to do you, now."

"It's a price worth paying, to hear you squawk."

"I don't squawk!" Clover coughed into Qrow's shoulder. "I don't squawk," he reiterated, in a voice at least one octave lower.

"If you say so." Qrow squirmed away from Clover, settling himself comfortably on his front. "Off you go, then."

Unseen by Qrow, Clover's hands hovered over his butt, itching to grab to teach Qrow a lesson. He resisted, contenting himself with a soft squeeze instead. Qrow wriggled his hips appreciatively.

"That's nice, but if you carry on like that, we can forget the massage."

"Sorry, Qrow." Clover focused on his boyfriend's back and shoulders, eliciting a pleased sound from Qrow in the process. Settling into a steady rhythm, he continued for about ten minutes, until Qrow opened one eye and peered up at him.

"Thanks, Clover. That feels so much better."

"How does this feel?" Clover flicked one butt cheek several times, before scrambling from the bed to avoid Qrow's grabbing hand. "I did warn you, Qrow."

Qrow pursued Clover into the living room, catching him and pushing him onto the sofa. He laid his body along the back of Clover's, pinning him down. Qrow was not as heavy as Clover, but he was determined.

"You utter—" With an effort, Clover wriggled round to face his smirking boyfriend. "Why do I put up with you?"

With a subtle movement of his hips, Qrow pressed against Clover's body. He lowered his face, lips finding Clover's in a heavy kiss. "You know why," Qrow murmured.

Clover slid his hands around Qrow, shifting the angle of his hips to draw a gasp from the man on top of him. "Shall we go back to the bedroom?"

Qrow's eyes were dark as they looked down at him.

"Yeah."

❖

It had been a little over six months since Qrow had arrived in Atlas, and almost four months that they'd been dating. It was a new experience for both of them, for different reasons.

Clover had previous relationships which had lasted far longer than this, though not one which had meant as much to him. This was more than a pleasurable time spent with an attractive companion. This was a man he'd fallen in love with, against all his expectations. A man he wanted to be with, for a very long time.

None of Qrow's past attachments had seen out the month. He'd never met anyone who made him want to halt his travels, and there had been several who had made him leave sooner than he'd intended. Maybe it was the sobriety... or maybe it was Clover himself. Whatever the reason, Qrow was glad to find somewhere he _wanted_ to stay, and someone he wanted to be with.

Not that it had been easy. Qrow's decision to stop drinking had been made almost on a whim, and the days following were not ones he cared to remember. Now the worst was behind him, and the occasional anxious spell, or sleepless night, were a price he was happy to pay.

❖

The first time they had spent the night together, was almost the last.

Qrow was tired, physically drained, replete. But his brain would not follow suit. Long after Clover had slipped into sleep—the soft sounds of his breath a calming sound which, Qrow was sure, would lull him also—he lay awake in Clover's bed, eyes alternately tight shut or staring into the darkness. Eventually he had left the bedroom, pacing the floor of the living room to tire himself out. It had worked, finally. Clover was unaware of Qrow's insomnia, waking the next morning to find Qrow curled up in bed beside him.

Qrow decided after that to sleep alone. He didn't want to be responsible for anyone else's broken nights. Clover didn't understand.

"I'm not saying we should spend every night together, but... now and again would be nice. Wouldn't it?"

Qrow glanced at him, before looking away. "I'm a restless sleeper. I'd disturb you."

"I can live with that, Qrow. We'll have to make sure we're both tired before we go to sleep." His smile broke Qrow's limited resolve, and after that, he spent several nights a week at Clover's. Sometimes, if Qrow woke, the other's presence was enough to lull him back to sleep. At other times, he would slip quietly from the bed and try to tire himself out away from the bedroom. So far, he'd been successful in this without Clover being aware of it.

❖

The youngsters had arranged a gaming night. Clover enjoyed these evenings, not only for the chance to relax, but to watch Qrow with his nieces and the others. It was a side of the older man he had come to appreciate more and more— Qrow was far more carefree on these occasions.

Today was different. Initially, Qrow was keen, but when it was time for them to go, he hung back, one finger tapping the table.

"I dunno, Cloves, I'm not really in the mood now."

"You'll perk up when we get there, Qrow. You always enjoy beating the kids at their games, don't you?"

Qrow shrugged. "Guess so." His face wore a blank expression as he sighed deeply. "Come on, then."

Clover frowned at him, before leading the way from his quarters. This glum, slightly surly Qrow appeared occasionally, and he could usually coax him into a better mood. It was hard work, sometimes. _I have bad days, too._ Clover instantly chided himself for the unsympathetic thought. Qrow was still acclimatising to a life without alcohol— there were bound to be rough patches to negotiate.

Qrow perked up a little once they reached the common room. Ruby greeted them with her usual boundless energy, yet Clover noticed Yang's expression as she watched her uncle. A frown, a pursing of the lips, before she turned away. Clover wondered what she was thinking.

After an hour or so, Qrow pulled Clover to one side. "I'm not feeling so good... I think I'll call it a night. You stay, though... don't want to spoil your fun."

Clover looked at him, noting the slight sheen on his pale face. "I can come, Qrow, if you're not feeling well..."

"No, it's okay. I just need some fresh air, that's all." Qrow scanned the room, then left quickly without speaking to anyone else. Yang glanced up and caught Clover's eye. He shrugged, not knowing what to say. She turned back to watch Ruby and Nora battling it out on the screen.

Clover's usual good mood dissipated, and after a short while he made his excuses and left. A quick call to Qrow went directly to voicemail. He frowned, quickening his steps to reach his quarters. The room was silent when he went in.

"Qrow? You here?" There was no response, but a sound from the bathroom had Clover scurrying to investigate. Qrow was hunched over the toilet, shoulders heaving. Clover hesitated, before crouching beside him in the confined space. He rested a hand lightly on Qrow's back, rubbing gently.

After a short while the shuddering stopped. Clover silently handed Qrow some tissues, waiting while he wiped his face. He turned to look at Clover, skin waxen and eyes glistening. "This isn't going so well," he rasped.

Clover sat back on his heels. "It might be an idea to get help, Qrow." Seeing the other's eyes narrow, he added, "It's not an... admission of failure, or anything. I'm sure they've seen this kind of thing before, and—"

Qrow stood abruptly, swaying a little. "Oh, and you know all about this, do you?"

Clover stood warily, watching his face. "No, and that's why—"

"Just leave me to do this my own way, yeah? That's how I prefer it." He pushed past Clover, breathing hard. A few seconds later, Clover heard the closing of the door.

_Well played, Ebi. Sterling work._

But part of his brain was annoyed. Annoyed with Qrow for brushing him off so readily, when he was only trying to help.

Clover got ready for bed. Before he lay down, he messaged Qrow with an apology.

There was no response.

❖

The following morning Clover woke with a headache. He'd slept badly, worrying he'd done more harm than good with his suggestion to Qrow. There was still no word, so he washed and dressed quickly and went by Qrow's room to see how he was.

It took several knocks at the door before it was opened. A dishevelled Qrow appeared behind it, peering at Clover with bleary eyes before turning away wordlessly. Clover followed him into the room, watching with concern as Qrow returned to his untidy bed.

"Are you not well, Qrow? Is there anything I can get you?"

"'S alright. Just need more sleep." He turned over in bed, his back to Clover, and said no more.

Clover stood by the bed, rubbing his chin. He hadn't known how Qrow had coped with his alcohol withdrawal when he'd first got to Atlas, but since they'd been close, there had been nothing like this. Clover felt out of his depth.

"I'll— I'll pull you off the missions for today, then." He paused, waiting for a response which didn't come, before leaving the room.

  


When Clover got back into comms range later that day, there was a string of messages on his scroll. Qrow was so sorry, he was a complete shit, he didn't deserve Clover, he didn't deserve anyone, all he ever did was drag down those he cared for...

It was as though a bucket of iced water had been poured down Clover's neck. Qrow's mental state as he sent the succession of messages looked to be... fragile. With trembling fingers, he replied. Qrow's response was prompt.

_Oh, sorry, Cloves... I was feeling a bit sorry for myself earlier, but I'm good now. Just eating a late lunch._

The cold feeling penetrated through to Clover's chest. Qrow's casual response should have reassured him, yet all he felt was a tight anger. _Why couldn't he at least have messaged to say everything was okay?_ He thrust his scroll back into his pocket, lips set in a thin line. The tundra slid by unseen, his unfocused eyes staring through the grimy window as his hands sat on his lap, clenched tightly.

When he got back to Atlas, Clover went directly to his quarters. Qrow was sitting in the corridor, looking at his scroll with his back against Clover's door.

"Hello, Qrow." Clover's voice was level as he looked down at his boyfriend.

Qrow scrambled to his feet. "Here he is! I've missed you today, Cloves." He put his hands out towards Clover, who took them hesitantly.

"How are you?" Clover scrutinised Qrow's face. His colour was better, and his eyes glittered. If it hadn't been for Qrow's behaviour earlier, Clover would have been pleased to see him looking so well.

"Fine! Never better. Shall we go in?"

  


Clover held Qrow closely, their bodies cooling. _That had been unexpected. Welcome, but unexpected._ He kissed the top of Qrow's head, smiling at Qrow's contented hum against his chest.

Clover knew he had to say something about what had happened earlier. "This day ended much better than it started, Qrow. What was all that about this morning?"

After a moment, Qrow twisted his head to peer up at Clover. "I just felt a bit off. I haven't been sleeping well... I guess it caught up with me." He nestled back down, the conversation over.

Clover was about to ask a further question, but decided with a sigh it was probably not worth it. He tried to enjoy the quiet moment, as he felt Qrow's body relax into sleep.

❖

A month or so passed, and the two men enjoyed their time together. Mostly.

Qrow's restless nights continued, and there were several days when he seemed incapable of getting out of bed in the morning. Clover tried to rationalise it as a necessary journey the older man had to take, but it was proving hard. Some days Qrow was bright and enthusiastic; at other times he could not be persuaded to leave his room. Activities which he formerly enjoyed seemed to lose their allure, and when Clover managed to convince Qrow to come and train with him, it did not go well. They had always enjoyed sparring together, even before they'd started dating, but now... _he's lost his focus, and sometimes he's almost... uncoordinated._ Clover didn't understand what was happening, he only knew the euphoria he had felt when they had begun to share their lives was now out of reach.

❖

It all fell apart one night a few weeks later. Qrow had taken flight before trying to sleep, as he often did. Clover's window was ajar, and he had gone to bed and sat up reading, awaiting Qrow's return.

It was now past midnight, and Clover was still alone. For the third time, he put his book down and went to the window, eyes scanning the skies fruitlessly. He turned away, shoulders drooping, when a sudden flurry outside announced Qrow's return. Clover retreated from the window as the bird flew in, catching a wing against the opening and tumbling onto the bed. In an instant Qrow was there, rubbing his arm with an oath.

"You're late, is everything okay?" Clover wondered how many times he'd asked Qrow this question recently.

"'S all fine." He continued to nurse his arm, eyes turned away from Clover's enquiring gaze.

The younger man frowned. He sat on the bed, tilting Qrow's face towards him.

There it was.

The unmistakeable odour of whiskey.

"Oh, Qrow. What happened?"

Qrow pulled away, slithering from the bed to lean against the dresser.

"Nothing _happened._ I had a very small drink. It's alright, don't start."

Clover swallowed. This couldn't be happening.

"But you've been doing so well, Qrow! At least—"

"I haven't though, have I?" He walked to the bedroom chair and sat down heavily. "It was a mistake, to just stop. Knew it was." He stared at the floor, speaking in a low voice. "This is better. Just a little bit... takes the edge off."

"How long—"

"Few weeks... not sure really." He looked at Clover, his expression pleading. "It helps... I couldn't do it. I thought I'd be over it quicker if I stopped, but... I wasn't. I couldn't do it," he finished helplessly.

Clover was silent. The sharp sensation in his chest increased as he looked at the man he cared for.

"I'm not the person to help you, Qrow. I'm not qualified to—"

"Whaddya mean?" Qrow's eyes widened as he stared at Clover.

"Right now, I'm helping prop you up. It isn't helping you get better, I'm just a crutch. You need expert help. Tomorrow we can—"

Qrow stood abruptly. "Fuck your tomorrow. I thought— well, I was wrong." He walked swiftly from the room, knocking against the dining table before fumbling at the door catch. Clover stared for a moment, jumping up to follow him.

By the time he reached the door out into the corridor, Qrow had gone.

Clover turned back to the room, running both hands through his hair. He stood by the table, before bringing both fists down on it, hard.

"Gods damn him, why does he—"

He pulled out his scroll, calling Qrow's number. Voicemail again.

Clover selected another contact. After several rings, the call was answered.

"General. I'm so sorry to disturb you at this hour, but... something's happened."

  


They met in the corridor leading to the mess hall. The General's normally impassive face was creased in concern, his ruffled hair and hastily donned clothing testament to his worry.

"What happened? I thought Qrow was getting through this, I thought—"

"So did I." Clover's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall. "We've had a few rough patches, and... it turns out he's been drinking—just a little, to take the edge off, he said—for some weeks." He rubbed his face clumsily, leaving streaks of tears on his cheeks. "I thought I could help, but... I was too hopeful, perhaps. Now I've made it worse, and he just stormed out. I want to help him, but I can't."

James gripped Clover's shoulder. "Don't despair, Clover. I may know where he is, and... maybe for the moment, it would be better if I go alone. It may generate less... emotion."

Clover stared at him bleakly. "I really wanted this to work... but it was getting so difficult..."

The General squeezed his shoulder. "Go to bed. Try and get some rest. I'll message you, when I've found him."

Clover returned slowly to his quarters. For one of the few times in his life, he had failed. Failed to notice Qrow was still struggling. Failed to do something about it soon enough. And failed to be the kind of boyfriend Qrow needed right now.

He received a message from James about ten minutes after he'd gone to bed. Qrow was safe. There was no further information.

Clover was hollow, drained of all feeling. His eyes were dry, his heart heavy in his chest. He wanted to care, but it was so hard. He wanted Qrow to get better, yet he knew he wasn't the one to help him.

Sleep came, eventually. And when he woke in the morning, aching and still tired, he felt nothing at all.

❖

Qrow did not attend the morning briefing, and neither Ruby nor Yang knew where he was. Clover was not too worried, as he knew James had taken Qrow in the previous night. He told them he would check in with the General.

James was not in his office, which puzzled Clover. His scroll went straight to voicemail when Clover called. _This is all too familiar_. He left a message, asking James to call, and then tried to get on with his day.

An hour or so later, the General called.

"Sorry for the lack of communication; it's been a hectic morning. I've got Qrow admitted into a private facility... it's one I've had occasion to use in the past. Not for myself, but for a friend... Anyway, he's in the right place, and will get the best treatment there is. It's up to him now, Clover."

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry I couldn't—"

"This isn't your fault, Clover. When he's allowed visitors, perhaps you'll want to see him. Until then, try not to fret."

 _Try not to fret._ The least helpful advice he'd ever heard.

❖

The retreat Qrow was in did not allow outside contact for two weeks. It was the longest fortnight of Clover's life as he attempted to carry on normally, every spare thought occupied by Qrow, and the failings Clover felt regarding what had happened. _Why did my good fortune not help him? Of all the times it was needed, why not now?_

There was no answer, and as the fourteenth day dawned, Clover wondered whether Qrow would trust him again, when Clover had pushed him away.

"He's asked me to visit, Clover. He isn't leaving yet, and he can have one visit per day from now. I'll see how things are, and let you know." James rested a hand on Clover's shoulder. "Don't read anything into this... I imagine he's embarrassed about what happened. Do you have a message for me to pass on?"

Clover stared into the distance. So much he wanted to say, but how could the General be expected to convey the thought that nagged at him?

_I love you, Qrow. Or at least, I want to be able to love you._

Clover wasn't sure he was the right person to offer Qrow love.

"Just tell him... I hope he's feeling better, and it'll be good to see him, when he's ready."

James considered Clover for a few seconds, then with a nod of the head he said, "Very well. I will update you later."

  


Qrow's room was large and comfortable, with a small seating area as well as a bed and en-suite bathroom. He sat down after he'd let the General in, watching the older man warily as he took a seat.

"I'll begin with the obvious... How are you, Qrow?"

Qrow shrugged. "Physically I feel a lot better already. I'm still having trouble sleeping, though."

"I'm sure that will improve with time. Are they keeping you entertained?"

Qrow snorted. "Entertainment isn't really what they call it. Plenty of light physical activity, some group sessions, yoga, meditation..." He laughed. "I haven't spent so much time inside my own head for a long while."

James' face was serious. "And how do you like it, in there?"

Qrow reached for the glass of water on the table. He looked at James for a long moment before answering.

"It's lonely."

James drew a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "You know, that's something you would never have admitted to, a while ago."

Qrow pursed his lips. "Maybe not. But, I'm not that person any more, Jimmy."

"I know. I've seen how you've changed, over the past few months. It's been a pleasure to watch." He smiled at Qrow, whose face wore an expression of surprise.

"Was it really noticeable? 'Cause I felt like shit a lot of the time."

"It was. And I think you know why."

Qrow poked out his lower lip. "Well, that was then. Things have changed, in case you didn't know."

"I know, Qrow. I know Clover feels bad because he couldn't help you as he felt he should. No, wait." He held up a hand to prevent Qrow interrupting. "It wasn't his job to fix you, so none of this is his fault. Also, it's not necessary for you to feel guilty if he's feeling bad. He has to work that out for himself. But... he misses you. He'd like to see you, when you're ready."

Qrow linked his fingers together, staring at his hands as he worked the rings round and round. "Not yet. Soon, maybe. Tell him... soon."

❖

Clover knew he was working too hard. Qrow had managed to get him to slow down a little, when they were together.

Some evenings, he slowed down a lot. Thoughts of work were chased from his head by slim fingers, warm lips, and a husky voice telling him to lay down and relax.

There was no-one here to do that, now. No-one to share his evening with, to chat about his day, to steal food from his plate when Clover pretended not to notice...

When the knock sounded on his door, late into the evening, Clover's heart surged. _It won't be him_ , he told himself. And he was right.

James stood in the corridor, smiling pleasantly. After his initial surprise, Clover asked him in. The General rarely came to his quarters.

"Is there a problem, sir? Has something happened to Qrow?"

"No, nothing like that. Don't look so worried, Clover. Nothing bad has happened." He clapped Clover on his shoulder. "Shall we sit down?"

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. Would you like a drink? A coffee, or—"

"No thank you, this is only a brief visit." He paused, looking carefully at the man sitting opposite him. "How are you doing, Clover?"

The unexpected kindness of his tone caught Clover by surprise. He felt the prickle of tears behind his eyelids, and swallowed hard.

"F-fine... I'm fine, sir, thank you."

James narrowed his eyes. "Really? Because you don't look it. And from what I've seen, your workload at the moment is putting even me to shame." He smiled a little, coaxing a wobbly response from Clover.

"I've always aspired to follow your example, sir."

"In this case, you probably shouldn't. And you know, outside of work, we can use first names, if you'd prefer. I'm here as your friend, Clover. Not your superior."

Clover sat back, hands gripping his knees as he gazed at James. "You've visited, I take it? How— how is he?"

"Keeping busy. Doing yoga! And probably thinking too much about some things, when talking about them would be a better idea. He said he would like to see you... soon. I don't know how long _soon_ is, but I feel it won't be too many days now." James saw Clover's shoulders relax as his body sank into the seat. He looked at the General, his eyes troubled.

"I don't know what to say to him... when I see him."

James sighed. "The truth. Be honest about how you feel, Clover. It's the only way."

❖

It was almost a week later. Clover had tried to follow James' advice, and slow down at work, but he found it helpful to fill his time. As he closed his terminal and pushed the paperwork to one side, even he had to admit he'd had enough for one day.

When his scroll buzzed with a message from Qrow, he hesitated to pick it up. He did so gingerly, as though it might burn his fingers.

_I'm bored, are you up for a visit?_

Clover's mouth twisted into a smile. _Weeks of silence, and then this_. He messaged back.

_I'd love to see you, but isn't it a bit late?_

There was no immediate reply, and Clover wondered if Qrow thought he was making excuses not to go.

_Jimmy arranged it so I can have visitors any time. But if you're busy..._

Clover's fingers trembled as he replied.

_Nope, not busy. See you in a bit._

He stood up, pushing the chair under the desk with a sense of finality. Pausing only to gulp down a glass of water, he set off.

  


Clover had never been in this part of Atlas before. Having gained admission at the front gate, he walked up the short gravel drive to the imposing grey stone building. After signing in at the front desk, an orderly had accompanied him to the corridor where Qrow's room was located. His nerves were wire tight, as he raised a hand to knock on the door.

After a moment it was opened, Qrow glancing at him quickly before looking away. "Come in," he mumbled. Clover went into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Can I get you anything? Water, or I can make a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

Clover sat on the edge on one of the low chairs, hands pressed together between his knees. Qrow placed the glass of water on the low table, taking a seat in the other chair.

Clover took a gulp of water, willing himself to breathe slowly. The glass rattled against the table as he put it down.

"So... how've you been? You're looking a bit better."

"I'm feeling a lot better." Qrow paused. "You were right, you know. I _did_ need help. I was too stubborn to admit it."

"I didn't come here expecting you to apologise, Qrow. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I let you down, badly. I should have known, should have been more sympathetic —"

"Shut up, Cloves."

Clover raised his eyebrows sharply at Qrow's words. Qrow continued, smiling. "Sorry, that was rude, I guess. I mean, you have nothing to apologise for. You were in an impossible situation, and I just couldn't see it. When Jimmy pointed it out, it was obvious, really. So please don't say sorry. It's fine."

Clover drank a little more water. "I've missed you, Qrow. So much. And... I don't know if you can forgive how I was, or if we can try again. Or even if you want to. If you don't, I understand. It's your decision." He picked up the glass again and studied it carefully, rubbing away the condensation which had formed on the outside.

Qrow said nothing. He got to his feet and walked a few paces across the small room. His back was to Clover, who also stood, placing the glass back on the table.

"Okay, well, I hope you continue to get better." Clover went to the door, and as he opened it, Qrow turned round.

"You're going already?"

"I thought— you don't want me here, so—"

"What do you mean? I didn't say that."

"You didn't say anything, so I assumed—"

"You assumed wrong." Qrow clasped his hands together, raising the fingertips to his chin. "It probably won't be easy, and we'll have to take it slowly, I think... But if you want to give it another go, then I do, too."

Clover stood by the half open door, one hand on the door handle. He stared at Qrow, before slowly closing it again. He took a few steps to bring him closer to the older man, taking Qrow's hands in his.

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to bring you down, or... ruin your recovery, or—"

"You won't. I mean, there's a long way to go, and it won't be a walk in the park, for sure. But— if you think you can put up with me, I'd like that."

Clover kissed Qrow's fingers, sniffing back tears ineffectively. Qrow loosened his hands and dried Clover's cheeks.

"You big softy." His own eyes were glistening, as he slid his arms about Clover's waist. Clover hugged him in return, pressing his face into Qrow's soft hair.

"I know it won't be easy, Qrow. But I want to try... as it's you."

  


Several months later, James decided to take a turn in the arboretum. The spring bulbs and blossom would be putting on a good display, and a short spell away from his desk would ease the stiffness which had set in.

Strolling along one of the many winding pathways, he heard a familiar husky voice, followed by laughter. He rounded the curve ahead, and saw Qrow and Clover seated on a bench off to one side. Clover's face was flushed, and the smirk on Qrow's face told the General all he needed to know.

"Hello, you two. Enjoying the spring flowers?"

"Uh, yeah, kind of." Qrow patted the bench beside him. "Have a seat, Jimmy."

"I don't wish to intrude..."

"You're not, sir. Sit down, take the weight off your feet."

James sat with a small groan. "To be honest, I've been sitting down all morning. That's why I came out, to stretch my legs."

Qrow wagged a finger at him. "You need to take better care of yourself, you know."

"It's true," added Clover. "You're very good at looking out for other people... a bit of self-care wouldn't go amiss."

"I'm fine, really. All the better for seeing you both in such good spirits."

Neither replied immediately, then Qrow spoke. "We never said a proper _thank you_ , did we? After I was admitted... if it hadn't been for you, I'm not sure where I'd have ended up. And we might not have decided to get back together." He found Clover's hand, squeezing it hard. "And that would have been a shame."

"It's true, sir. Thank you."

James was staring at the trees opposite, his cheeks flushed. "I'm not sure— well, thank you, both of you. It's only what anyone would have done... any fool can see you two make a good fit."

"Any fool, Jimmy? Even you?" Qrow grinned at the man seated beside him. Clover spluttered, wondering yet again how Qrow could be so cheeky and get away with it.

James looked at them both. "Even me." He smiled as he got to his feet. "And while I'm here... would you both like to join me for dinner some time? I'll ask Winter too... if the two of you can act like adults, it might be rather pleasant." He fixed Qrow with a stern look, his mouth twitching at one corner.

"Why not? Thanks, Jimmy. You're a good friend." To his surprise, Qrow realised that yes, he was.

"I do my best." James smiled, raising a hand in farewell before continuing on his way along the path.

"He is, too. We owe him, Qrow."

"We can take him some flowers when we go to eat." Qrow smiled. "Now, where were we?"

Clover pulled him to sit on his lap, hand reaching to brush through the dark hair.

"About here, I think..." His mouth found Qrow's in a long kiss, the soft contact between them gradually becoming something more. Breaking for a moment to catch his breath, Clover knew he could say the words now, and mean them.

"I love you, Qrow."

He felt Qrow's lips curve into a smile. "Well, aren't you the lucky one. 'Cause I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
